Author's Note: A very little known fact is that Penelo/Larsa is actually one of my favorite pairings of this fandom. However, I get totally creeped out whenever they have a smoochy moment in in-game fanfictions. He's twelve, and it just irks me. To quote quantz, since when do twelve-year-olds get all the "hot makeouts"? I prefer to write them older. It's actually kind of silly, feeling weird about the age difference betwixt Penelo and Larsa when I'm such an advocate of Bashe (and he's almost twenty years older than her). Age only bothers me when, you know, they haven't yet hit puberty. Hahaha, they ought to call Larsa "Larlita". Get it? Oh, I'm so punny.
P.S. I'm very happy with the length of this fic.
P.P.S. I never really paid any attention to how seeqs talked. I'm not really a professor on Seeqology, so you'll have to forgive me. They don't look like the couthest things around, though, if you know what I mean.
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII nor any of its respective characters, settings, etc. Yay, legal! (Ha, know what's not legal? Larsa! Man, I really am punny.)
"Payment as Repayment"
By Genetix Chiquita
Larsa Ferrinas Solidor was unaccustomed to Dorstonis's traditional means of entertainment. So, while he fancied nothing more than a good read by the firelight, the men of his company preferred something slightly less fanciful. It was thus that the young lord found himself in the company of the guards provided by Archadia to accompany him, a few select Bhujerban warriors sent by Marquis Ondore to ensure his safety, and a traveling harem.
"I'm not sure about this," he muttered, quite uncomfortable with the notion of paying for women.
"Your lordship does not have to participate," the senior Archadian officer assured him.
Larsa nodded, feeling rather unsettled, and headed off to barricade himself in his tent for the night. Passing by a pair of Bhujerban guards, he couldn't help but overhear their conversation.
"Lord Larsa's young, it's not his fault," said one.
"Young?" another scoffed. "All the more reason! When I was eighteen, I'd have done anything for enough gil to afford a lady. And he could afford all of them!"
The first shrugged. "When you were eighteen, you weren't Archadian royalty. He is probably just unsure of himself."
The second laughed. "All the more reason to buy a woman. Court ladies never go for the unsure ones!"
Rolling his eyes and tuning them out, Larsa couldn't help but take a glance around the camp. He supposed it wasn't all bad, as at least the general atmosphere among the men and women was cheerful. The men were mostly seated around the fire, recounting stories to the women with fervor and a bit of a drunken slur. The women laughed and tittered, but seemed relatively happy even while wearing so little clothing. He had to say the fact that they wore collars disturbed him to no end, despite all.
"I said no!" a woman's voice forcefully protested. Larsa looked over to observe the scene, the voice ringing somewhat of a bell in his mind. He could see that unlike the other women, she wasn't particularly keen on servicing a stranger, paying customer or no. Her bracelets and necklaces chimed as she was pushed towards the man by one of the harem's handlers, a large and rather unappealing seeq.
"You'll go, Astram!" he told her, holding up the collar's tether threateningly. Larsa's curiosity was piqued – there was something familiar about the woman that he couldn't put his finger on.
She stood her ground and crossed her arms indignantly. "My name is not Astram! It's Penelo!" All at once, Larsa's breath hitched and his eyes widened dramatically. Penelo? In a harem?
The Bhujerban guard (who Larsa presumed had bought her) chuckled. "It's all right, just give me the lead," he told the seeq, holding out his hand. "I'm quite well known for my ability to break horses. If I can break a horse, I can break her."
Larsa's blood boiled as the seeq laughed. "I'd say there's nary a difference between her and one!"
Meanwhile, Penelo glared. "Then why don't you pleasure yourself with a horse instead?"
The guard's eyes narrowed as his companions all burst into laughter. Noting the seeq's tightened grip on the lead, noticeably about to pull, Larsa ran forward. "Penelo!"
She didn't look at him, and instead pointed her nose in the air. "If you think you can have me just because you called me by my name, you're barking up the wrong tree!" She turned then, presumably to sneer at him, but instead her mouth fell agape. "Larsa?" she managed to say.
He nodded feverishly. "What are you… ?"
Penelo took advantage of the moment and seized the lead from the seeq's hand, pushing it forcefully into Larsa's. "I'll go with him.
"What?" spat Larsa, the guard, and the handler simultaneously.
"Well, he'll pay, won't he?" she said, looking back and giving Larsa a meaningful and insistent glare.
He nodded quickly, fumbling for his satchel. Finding it, he handed over three large golden coins to the seeq, far more than what was needed. "There."
"I really must protest!" said the guard erratically, now furious and confused.
The seeq snorted, returning the guard's gil to him. "I only do what's best for business. Besides, I'm sure if she'd gone with you, we'd get her back all bruised up. Can't have that, can we?" He nodded to Larsa and Penelo and left.
"Well, no time like the present!" Penelo piped up, grabbing Larsa's hand and quickly leading them away from the flushing guard and his amused comrades.
"Penelo, I-!" he began, but was silenced by a leer.
"Just take me to your tent before they suspect something!" she whispered harshly. He nodded mutely and wound her through the night's ruckus, finally reaching his tent. It was reasonably humble, and he realized with chagrin that they'd be in rather close quarters. He did not have much time to reflect on it, however, as Penelo pushed open the flaps and all but flung herself – and him along with her – inside.
Releasing his hand, she wiped away the beads of sweat dancing on her brow and sighed in relief. "Thank you so much."
Larsa was entirely perplexed. "Would you care to explain?" he asked, almost breathless.
Penelo stretched and nodded, smiling. "It's a long story."
Reflecting on how much gil he'd given the seeq, Larsa said with a tinge of sarcasm, "Well, we've got all night."
She laughed and sat back against an arrangement of pillows. "Well, it happened recently. Perhaps a few weeks ago. After Ashe was crowned queen, I stayed mostly around the palace. I was taught to dance by actual instructors, and they said I had a fantastic aptitude."
She beamed at that, so Larsa smiled and congratulated her. "Naturally."
Penelo grinned. "Anyway, I stayed around there for a few years, but I started to get a little restless just being in a palace all day. So I went and auditioned for dancing troupes that traveled around Ivalice. They were few and far between, but a couple did come through Rabanastre every so often. All of them were already full, and even though they wanted to take me on, they couldn't afford to. But then one did." Her tone became remorseful at that.
"What happened?" Larsa asked.
She sighed. "Well, it turns out it wasn't a dancing troupe at all. That was a front for a traveling harem that happened to be passing through and stopped by the Sandsea. They kept the façade up until we reached the borders of Archadia, and then I found out. I wanted to leave but they wouldn't let me, so I got stuck doing this. I think it's only been a few weeks, but it's horrible. The other women actually seem to enjoy it, but it's definitely not for me. I only wanted to dance."
After hearing her story, he couldn't keep the question in. "So, have you…?"
"Have I what?" she asked, before realizing what he meant. She blushed and shook her head emphatically. "No, no, no! Ew, never!"
Larsa exhaled in relief. In the moment of semi-awkward silence that followed, he couldn't help but notice how, despite her current clothing (or lack thereof), she still strongly resembled her old self. Her hair was much longer now, and fell in two braids as it did before. Though she was now twenty-three to his eighteen, she still had the same girlish, yet mature happiness about her that he so admired when they were younger.
"So, what about you?" she asked, her inquisitive soprano breaking the silence.
Larsa shrugged. "I came to visit Marquis Ondore for political reasons." Her eyebrows perked and he shook his head. "Nothing of alarm, of course. Just the usual: renewals of peace treaties, discussion of importation and exportation, and the like. I am currently just going about Bhujerba, visiting the locals and assuring peace of mind."
Penelo grinned. "Having fun?"
Larsa smiled, though his tone was fanciful when he spoke, "Not particularly, but as much fun as is possible, I suppose."
She nodded and sighed happily. "Oh, I'm so glad I found you. Now you can get me out of here and I can go back to Dalmasca."
"Why hadn't you escaped before?" he couldn't help but wonder. He thought her entirely capable of taking on a few seeq with little to no trouble.
"I tried," she admitted. "But the security is tougher than you'd think. There's only three or four handlers around that you can see, but there are dozens of others that are in the surrounding forest, ready to attack anyone who doesn't handle us nicely. Or, in my case, track down anyone who tries to get away."
Larsa was saddened by that news. "Have others tried to escape?"
"No," Penelo told him. "They actually like what they do. I can't imagine why." She beamed and looked at him excitedly. "But you can buy me and get me out of here!"
"Of course," he said, though uncomfortable with the idea of "buying" Penelo. Still, he supposed it couldn't be helped, and he was happy to repay her for all the times she'd come to his aid.
She nodded, glancing outside as the flap of the tent blew open slightly. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to peek out. "Damn!"
"What?" he asked, alarmed.
She shut the flap, turning towards him, fingers fumbling with his collar. "Take off your shirt!"
"Excuse me?" Larsa barely squeaked.
"Take it off!" she insisted, clamoring wildly for the hem.
"Penelo!" he yelled, scandalized, and shooed her hands away. "What are you-"
To his surprise, she gave him a frank glare. "Do you want to help me or not?"
He nodded feverishly as she crawled over onto his bed covers, loosening the ties on her hair and mussing it with her hands. "Then take off your shirt!"
Deciding questions would be futile in her haste, Larsa heeded her and pulled his shirt over his head with little effort. When he was done, she seized the fabric from his hands and threw it aside. He was about to ask her again what all the fuss was about when she placed a forceful hand on the back of his neck and pulled him forward. His body tumbled clumsily on top of hers as she flung them both back onto the bedroll, pressing her lips firmly against his. While one hand weaved through his silky black hair, another grabbed his free one and placed it against her thigh beneath the flimsy, sheer fabric of her skirt. Alarmed and surprised, he tried to withdraw, but she pressed her lips to his more firmly and he found himself kissing her back.
"Ah, well done, milord," a heavily accented voice called from the entrance of the tent. Snapped awake from his reverie and shock, Larsa broke from Penelo's grasp and whirled around to see the seeq leaning down and peering in.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, his voice erratic and surprisingly loud.
"Sorry to bother you," said the seeq, "but she's a way of slippin' the other men who've bought her. Either knocks 'em unconscious or wraps 'em up in conversation. Glad to see you're gettin' your gil's worth. My apologies, and I'll not bother you again. Be good, Astram."
Lying back on the bedroll, Penelo raised herself onto her elbows. "It's Penelo!" she called, but the seeq was already gone. She sighed with relief and collapsed back into the pillows.
Glancing around for his shirt, Larsa saw that it was nowhere to be found. He ignored that fact and instead concentrated on what had just happened. "What in the world was that?" he asked, tone one of complete bemusement.
Penelo regarded him apologetically and sat up. "I'm sorry, Larsa, I should have told you but I forgot. I guess I got distracted." She smiled for a moment, thinking of Vaan's short attention span.
"You may tell me now," he said, trying to get his voice as calm has it had been before with only minimal success. His lips were swollen and probably a little bruised from the sudden brush with her, and a nervous sweat clung to his shirtless body.
She shrugged. "Well, as you can guess I've been bought before. Quite a few times, actually. But I told you how much I never want to be bought. So every time I was, I wound my way out of the situation by fighting or talking. Eventually, all my 'customers' asked for their money back, so the handlers started checking up on me. They usually do it around this time, and if they found out I'm not doing," she paused, searching for the right words, "what I'm supposed to be doing, they take me away and punish me."
"Punish you?" ventured Larsa, understanding and a little afraid of what that invoked.
She nodded. "You know."
"They beat you?" he asked, voice incredulous.
"Well, of course," she said, sighing dramatically.
"Are you all right?" His gut churned with the thought of anyone laying a violent hand on Penelo.
She gave him an obvious look. "I'm fine, Larsa. I'm a big girl, remember?"
If he hadn't realized it before, he'd be forced to now. Looking at her, he couldn't help but notice her lips, reddened from the kiss and smiling despite all. Her hair, freed from its ties, fell messily over her shoulders and down her back in rolling blonde waves. The rest of her, too, had developed nicely, with her modest but pert chest in a rather revealing bustier.
"Larsa?" she asked, and he blushed and looked away. He felt her delicate fingers graze his cheek, turning his head and forcing him to look at her. "Are you all right?"
She was all innocence and sexuality mixed haphazardly together, and he couldn't look away. "I…" he struggled to say something, to absolve himself of his thoughts, but nothing came. Instead, as if by the will of another, his head dipped forward and his lips met hers, this time gently and with deliberate tenderness.
Heat crept into her cheeks and spread to her ears, her face beginning to pinken with embarrassment. Out of shock, she could do nothing but sit there. Taking this as rejection, Larsa withdrew and looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly. "My apologies, I did not mean to offend you."
Shaking her head, Penelo snapped herself out of her surprise and stuttered, "N-no, that's all right."
He gave her an odd look, and was about to say something when she instinctively bent forward and pressed her lips to his again. His eyes drifted shut and he placed a hand on the back of her neck, while hers traveled up his chest and over his shoulders, pulling him closer. Again, they fell against the bedroll and pillows, this time slowly and gracefully. His left hand trailed to her bare waist, reveling in the feeling of her toned stomach beneath his fingertips.
Despite himself, his tongue brushed against her lips and begged entrance. To his surprise, she granted it and the kiss deepened. He ran his hand along her thigh, teasing her with gentle, barely-there touches that nearly made her squirm. He felt her hands weave through his hair, enjoying the soft touch of his charcoal locks running through her fingers. Penelo's back arched and her breasts brushed against his chest, pushing his resolve with torturous delight.
"Larsa," she sighed when they broke for air, her voice a light whisper that dripped with desire. The sound of his name emitted from her lips drove him insane, dredging up memories of the silly crush he had on her all those years ago.
He trailed light, precise kisses from her lips down to her neck, stopping once to nibble lightly on her ear. She mewled in pleasure, a sound he had never expected to hear from her and thus loved it all the more. His lips lightly skimming her collarbone, his fingers traveled to the tie between her breasts that held her bustier together. With a pull and a flick the strings came apart, and he slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric to the heavenly skin beneath. Her back arched again, her hand pulling his head back to her as she placed another passionate kiss on his lips.
With his hand cupping her breast, grazing lightly over the especially sensitive flesh there, she squealed in contentment. However, her own hand fell over his and silenced his actions. Their lips broke apart, and her eyes filled with remorse.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse but eloquent in its traditional way and clouded with concern.
She smiled sadly. "It's just that this isn't really the best place."
He was about to ask her what she meant, but as the dreamlike state of the situation slowly evaporated, he realized without words. The raucous laughter of men and airy giggling of women seeped into the tent, sneaking surreptitiously through the finely woven fabric. The inconsistent crackle of the fire popped and jarred his head, laced by the far-off noise of a woman in a very pronounced, very loud state of pleasure. Larsa sighed. "I see what you mean."
Penelo giggled as he withdrew his hand and sat up, and she laced her bustier back together with ease. "It's all right, there will be other times."
Larsa's head perked up in surprise. "There will?"
She smiled. "Well, of course there will." She sat up and leaned forward, placing a light, innocent kiss on his lips. Her left hand slid down his arm and her fingers intertwined with his own. "Won't there?"
Larsa smiled as Penelo brushed errant strands of ebony hair out of his eyes and tucked them behind his ears. "Of course," he said, kissing her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her waist then and enveloped her in a tight embrace, which she returned gratefully.
"So, how much noise do you hear in your room at the palace?" she asked when they came apart, her voice a sultry whisper.
He grinned. "Nary even the chirping of crickets."
"And what about all your advisors crowding around, yelling political nonsense?" Her eyes danced merrily, and he noticed her hands were now tucked behind her back. Peeking over her shoulder, he could see his shirt held firmly in her fingers.
"You are confused," he said. "Their place is in court. My bedroom is reserved for me and me alone."
"Oh?" said she. "Well, maybe you should just take me back to Dalmasca then."
Larsa smirked. "I can take you nowhere without a shirt."
Penelo grinned, sitting up and tucking the shirt beneath her bottom and sitting back down. "Oh, damn," she whispered, pulling him forward into a kiss.
"Indeed," he said, winding an arm around her waist.
The next day, the men asked no questions as to why there was suddenly a woman among their ranks. Still, it seemed to be of little consequence, since she had proven her worth in a battle against one of the guards. (He had been very passionate about her not joining, and his friends all credited his anger as the result of spending a night without the woman of his choice.) She had quickly laid him on his back with a blade to his throat, and that had been enough to warrant her as a worthy addition to the ranks.
Still, they all couldn't help but wonder why, during the entire rest of their trip, Lord Larsa Solidor never again wore the shirt he'd been wearing that night the harem had paid them a visit. Little did they know that it was well hidden in rucksack containing not only his shirt, but also a beaded skirt, a pair of sandals, and a rather risqué bustier.